


Where does the inspiration go?

by ForkOfTruth



Category: Yuri!!! on Ice (Anime)
Genre: Angst, Character's Name Spelled as Viktor, Viktor is sad, sort of
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-08-05
Updated: 2017-08-05
Packaged: 2018-12-11 13:15:14
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,147
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11715129
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ForkOfTruth/pseuds/ForkOfTruth
Summary: When Viktor first saw Yuuri skating to his song, he didn't look overjoyed. He looked confused, determined, like he was trying to figure out a puzzle.Or, my take on what Viktor thought when he first saw the video and how he'd been feeling just before.





	Where does the inspiration go?

Inspiration was a fickle muse. It would settle for a breath, a soft and ghostly sigh that would raise the heartbeat and stand hairs on end, before leaving with a laugh when the images were finally beginning to form.

In short, inspiration was the biggest tease Viktor Nikiforov had ever encountered. He’d put pen to paper, holed himself up in his room and on the ice, drowned himself in music and for what? Snatches of ideas that flitted away quicker than he could grab. Step sequences that led to nothing or to shoddy repeats of past performances. At the ice rink, his smile was a façade, his eyes crinkling closed to hide the bitter frustration as he waved off his fellow rink mates concerns. When at home, though, and it was just Viktor and his Makkachin he found himself buried under the stress, anger burning in his eyes and trying to pull screams from his throat. He couldn’t count the number of times he’d thrown a pencil, or let out a quick, and uncharacteristic, shout. Both startled Makkachin something fierce and he’d find himself apologizing to the poodle, but there was absolutely nothing coming to him.

A month of no ideas. Longer still since he’d had that brief glimmer of hope, inspiration overwhelming in the wake of too much champagne, rosy cheeks, laughs, and absolute _fun_ – but, Viktor was adamant about pushing that to the back of his mind. It had been one of the best nights he’d had in _so long_ , but he’d heard nothing from the other and, though some small part of him hurt, he couldn’t be all that surprised. It was just a night of passion, a one-night stand that had been filled with fun instead of sex. He couldn’t expect anything more after the other didn’t try to reach out to him again. Viktor rubbed at his cheeks and eyes, sleep sounding more and more preferable the longer his inspiration slump lasted. It sounded even better when his mind went back to that night and he found himself longing for that smile. His head was in his hands, fingers carding through his hair as he bit back a sound. He couldn’t say what would come out of his mouth if he opened it.

Another day with nothing new. Just a brain gone to mush, a body that would only last for so much longer competitively, and a memory that would not leave.

His phone went off with a chime and he almost groaned. A part of him was tempted to ignore it, not willing to deal with another round of Yuri’s demands or Yakov’s screams. He knew he was failing them, no matter what they said, and it was a near chore trying to keep the smile there when he was with them. His smiles normally didn’t take so much effort.

There was another chime, followed by another, which was trailed by Christophe’s text ringtone: _I’m Bringing Sexy Back_. That, more than anything, got his attention and he finally pulled his phone toward him and leaned back, Makkachin immediately moving into the spot available in his lap. His smile at that was easy, genuine, and he gave the poodle a few fond scratches before turning to his phone again. It was almost a surprise to see all the notifications he’d amassed, all containing a video link with comments that covered everything to humor, encouragement, and sneers that had Viktor wrinkling his nose. He quickly moved away from those and to Christophe’s message, accompanied with a video link like all the others.

_Yo, Viktor. Check this out. This might be where your inspiration went!_

Viktor felt a part of him sour at the reminder, eyes narrowing at the video and the message like they were taunting him. But the video link was still there, innocuous as it waited. He almost wanted to close out of messenger and go back to ignoring his phone and everyone outside, his mood even darker after Chris’s – though innocent – jab at his failure. Inspiration wasn’t coming to him, and he was near certain a single video wouldn’t be able to bring it back to him. But the rest of him was desperate, and one little video couldn’t hurt.

He hit play and his breath whooshed out. He knew that face, no matter that it was softer than he remembered and the hair lankier. Viktor doubted that he’d be able to forget the man, though memory held nothing to seeing him again. He’d seen the other lost to alcohol, a figure of fun whose passion had burned bright enough to even sway Yuri into joining his antics. He’d been both clumsy and alluring, possessing a dancer’s grace that was occasionally lost with a quickly corrected stumble and a smile that was sloppy but still sincere. Now he saw that dancer’s grace unhindered, his passion shifting from fun to this master piece, a true nova.

And that’s where his awe left him, along with the inspiration he hadn’t even noticed returning. His mind was slipping back to the Grand Prix, to poorly executed jumps and a step sequence that had been intriguing but not enough to place. But there had been potential, buried deep and dull, like tarnished silver and oxidized gold begging to be cleaned and polished. He thought of the man’s failure and his mind was all but screaming, needing to know how someone that could skate this beautifully had given such a poor performance. There was something there that his mind couldn’t translate, something more to the situation, and he needed to know.

_‘What’s holding you back, Katsuki Yuuri? What’s keeping you from shining like the star I glimpsed?’_

He didn’t even realize he was hitting repeat, bringing the phone closer and taking it all in, drinking it in with eyes and mind like a dying man who’d just found salvation. No mistakes, perfect jumps, his step sequence crisp, and the expression on his round face. His beautiful, cherubic face with such animated brown eyes. Even from the distance the video was taken, he could still see it and the tiny smile the skater couldn’t quite hide, like there was no greater joy for the other. Viktor found himself yearning, an almost burning desire to see more of this man.

Katsuki Yuuri may not have physically reached out to him, but he had glimpsed that sun twice now and he couldn’t leave the man like this. He couldn’t leave him to slowly dwindle, for his light to burn out when he could be so much more.

Viktor looked at Makkachin and smiled. “Would you like to go on a trip, Makkachin?”

The poodle arfed, tail thumping against his legs, and Viktor’s smile only brightened. It was big, almost beaming, and realer than it had been in months.

“Katsuki Yuuri, I’m going to make you shine so bright.”

**Author's Note:**

> Hello, this is my first fanfiction posted on AO3 plus the first one I've posted anywhere in a long time. I'm both nervous and excited about that, but more excited than anything. The inspiration for this came from seeing/hearing multiple people point out Viktor's expression during that scene and my brain jumped on the idea. Viktor may have turned a bit more depressed than I intended him to be, but I think it fits.  
> If you see any issues please feel free to let me know, and positive criticism/feedback is always welcomed. Hopefully you enjoyed reading it as much as I enjoyed writing it!


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